


Everybody's Got Their Something

by Cutebutpsycho



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-03 23:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cutebutpsycho/pseuds/Cutebutpsycho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nikka Costa's music moves Sally Donovan late one night at work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everybody's Got Their Something

Sometimes the best time at work is the late nights, when no one is around and it’s just her. The halls are darkened, and the only light is from her area, as she gets caught up on paperwork and whatnot.

These are the best moments. There’s no office gossip, no politics, no phone ringing, no meetings — just the ability to get work done uninterrupted. Not to mention you can blast music and there’s no one to complain.

Tonight it’s a soul singer singing about how everybody is seeking whatever makes them happy. She’s seen the singer before while on holiday in Los Angeles with friends. 

“Everybody’s got their something,” she sings as she pounds away on the keyboard. “Makes you smile like an itty bitty child.”

She twirls around in the chair, her shoulders shaking to the waa-waa of the bass. A flash of the club, where they saw the singer, flashes through her mind as she remembers the press of bodies, moving as one, while the singer twirled around onstage, her husky and soulful voice floating above the funky guitar and bass.

One hand reaches into her desk drawer and she pulled out a lollipop and pops it in her mouth. Sucking on it she finishes her report. “People keeping score saying hurry up and you better get yours,” she sings, as the cherry flavor flood her mouth.

Another flash of the vacation — this time it’s a hot day at Santa Monica, the smell of saltspray filling her mind. Who knew someone with as dark of a complexion as hers could sunburn?

“Are we funky?” she asks, pulling the lollipop out of her mouth with a pop. “Hell yeah!”

Her head bobs to the beat and she continues singing. “Illuminate the silly things,” she says as she flings her head back, eyes closed, carried by the beat and the singer’s voice. 

“EVERYBODY’S GOT THEIR SOMETHING!” Her voice projects through the empty office. “MAKE YOU SMILE LIKE AN ITTY-BITTY CHILD.”

“I didn’t know you could sing Sally.”

Donovan’s eyes flash open and she blinks at the familiar voice. Her fingers fly forward, pausing the music. Turning around, she turns to face Sherlock, his eyes bright with amusement. She can feel her cheeks redden.

“I used to sing in church as a child,” she replies. “Can I help you?” She’ll be dammed if she shows embarrassment. Sometimes you have to own your shit, she reminds herself. Given what he can deduce about her, this is the least humiliating thing he can find. 

“I’m looking for Lestrade,” he replies, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “I have results for him.”

“He’s not here right now but I’ll let him know you were here, if I see him,” Sally pops the lollipop back in her mouth, turns around and turns the music back on.

“You’re something else altogether,” she can hear him harmonizing. “You’ve got everything you don’t need.”

Sally giggles as she hears his footsteps fade.

“There’s a time for every star…”


End file.
